Yearn to Learn
by Isyys
Summary: Yang's grades have been slipping, so she gets a little help from Professor Goodwitch. Rated M. Has more plot than it should.


Yearn to Learn

A/N: Oh my god I'm so glad to be done with this thing. This was supposed to be short and only take a few days to write, but look at that friggin word count. Seven thousand, dear lord. This is the longest thing I've ever written, fanfiction or otherwise.

The second part of this, especially the very end, was extremely rushed and it shows. I just wanted to get this thing out.

**If you haven't guessed what kind of fic this is yet, you're too young to be reading this.**

* * *

_Ugh, Aura Practices and Use 101 is so boring. Why do they even have this class, anyway? Not everyone is a doofus like Jaune, most of us can actually use our aura by the time we get to Beacon. At least it's not with Port, if that guy wiggles his moustache at me one more time I swear I'm gonna punch it right off his face. Speaking of professors, _hello _Professor Goodwitch! My god woman, do you realize how many people in this class fantasize about you? For your sake I hope you don't, having teenage horndogs drooling at the sight of you is just sad, I'd know. I'm totally different from them though, cause, well, uh… yeah. Oh professor, you try to be so harsh, but I bet you're just a big teddy bear at heart, you can't fool me. And those legs, UNF, those legs! You could run along those legs for miles!_

_WHAM!_

"Gah! Wha!? Whozzat? I'll fight ya!"

Yang brought her fists up in an aggressive stance, too disoriented from her sudden awakening to remember where she was. Her classmates burst into giggle-fits as Professor Goodwitch stared scornfully at the blonde, retracting her wand from the desk that she had just slammed it on.

"How nice of you to rejoin us, Ms. Xiao Long. Perhaps _you_ can answer the question I just posed to the class?"

"Er… eleven?"

"Ah. So overexerting your aura over long periods of time is dangerous because… _eleven_. How very profound."

The class' giggles renewed, and Yang pivoted in her seat to glare at them all. The meek and meager silenced themselves at once. A few students, either stupid or headstrong – or both – did not abate, and Yang rose to face her challengers. Professor Goodwitch intervened before a brawl could break out.

"That's quite enough! Ms. Xiao Long, sit down, I'll speak to you after class. Now then! As I was saying…."

Class continued. Yang only pretended to pay attention – a task she found very difficult given her previous train of thought – as she eagerly awaited the bell to signal the end of the period. If she could get caught up in the crowd of students as they were leaving, maybe Goodwitch would forget all about her. Then again, maybe she _could_ use a little help from the professor….

Nah, always better to avoid punishment. Owning up to it was for suckers.

_RRRIIIING!_

Oh, sweet release!

_Alright Yang, here we go. Play it cool, nothing to see here… why yes, hello Velvet, I'd love to nonchalantly accompany you out of class. Yes, please, tell me more about what you're having for lunch. What's that? No, Goodwitch didn't want to see me! Geez, you might wanna get those big ol' ears of yours checked sweetheart, you're hearing things!_

"Ahem! Ms. Xiao Long!"

_…Dammit. This is your fault somehow, Velvet._

"Um… yes, professor?"

"Just where do you think you're going?"

"Er… eleven?"

"Very funny. Get back here and take a seat."

Yang slouched back into the room as the last of her classmates left, leaving her all alone with the professor. She looked back to the door one final time, wondering if she should run for it, but it clicked shut and left her with a sense of crushing solitude. Accepting her fate, she slumped into the chair right in front of the instructor's desk and Goodwitch stoically eyed her for a moment before she began pacing on the opposite side.

"Ms. Xiao Long, this is the third time this week I have caught you daydreaming in class. Not only that, but you're not even dressed in the proper uniform and instigating roughhousing. Do you realize that your marks have been on the verge of failing this entire term? Given the slightest push they will go under, along with your chances at this school. We only take the best of the best here, and with the way you conduct yourself I find myself wondering how you ever got accepted. Well? What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

_Oh great, another lecture. Well, my grades have been kinda sucking, but that's nothing new. Let's see, how do I get out of this without having to do any extra assignments?_

"Oh, just how I think you're so hot when you're angry."

"E- Excuse me!?"

_Oh shit, Yang! That was a think-about-it-when-I'm-alone thought, not a tell-it-to-her-face thought! Welp, there goes my spot at this school... or maybe it could be my golden ticket. Might as well go for broke, right? Nothing to lose now._

"That's right. You see," Yang said, leaning forward in her chair to show off the best view of her cleavage. She caught the professor's eyes dart down to it, and continued with a smirk, "I can't help but dream about you during class. Do you look in a mirror often, professor? Because, _wow_."

If Glynda was rigid before, now she was absolutely frozen. Yang put on her most innocent façade, despite her efforts to blatantly flaunt her sensuality. This was a game she knew well, although she had never performed under this kind of pressure before. If there was ever a time to bring out her A game, this was it. The next step seemed an obvious choice.

"Professor…" Yang mewled, sliding out of her chair and crawling onto Glynda's desk, knocking aside everything in her way. Every part of her was at just the right angle: shoulders low, head high, butt up, breasts front and center. It was almost as if she had practiced this while enacting out fantasies in her head. "You don't _really_ want to fail me, do you?"

Glynda merely stared, wide-eyed as her admittedly rather attractive student slowly inched her way across her desk wearing a pitiful expression. Oh lord, the view she had down her shirt. She couldn't move, she could hardly breathe, and Yang's eyes were closing as her head slowly rose upward, bringing their lips closer….

_Aaaand touchdown!_

Yang's touch was light and soft, testing the waters. The woman of her affections was still rooted to the spot and wasn't reciprocating, but wasn't backing away either. So Yang did all she knew how to do: push harder. The one-sided contact deepened, making it a kiss in earnest.

Somewhere in Glynda's head, a spark of sense momentarily returned to her.

"MS. XIAO LONG, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" she screamed, pushing off of Yang's shoulders and ending the tentative contact.

"What I've wanted to do ever since I first laid eyes on you," Yang purred, unphased.

Glynda paused once again to consider what she had just heard, but her mind was still reeling and too fuzzy to think. Her hand absently trailed up to her tightly-sealed lips, feeling the ghost of the most memorable kiss she would surely ever have. Where had a girl so young learned all of this? More importantly, why was it _working_!?

Inevitably, her soft emerald eyes were drawn back to her student's own amethyst, but that wasn't all. The bombshell blonde was so close that their breath was hot on eachother's lips, and she whispered, "Please, give me this."

Glynda's lips burned with ache upon hearing those words. How long had it been since she had felt the soft touch of another on her body? For how long had she denied herself of her sinful desire to hold another woman as they put eachother through the throes of ecstasy? She had tried with too many men only to discover that she needed a feminine touch, but finding such a partner was difficult and heartbreaking. How many times had she fallen in love with her friends, only to be called a freak and left abandoned when she confided her secret in them? Too long, and too many. Implications be damned, she needed this.

She hadn't realized it until now, but she was lost as soon as Yang's lips had first brushed against her own.

So when she felt them upon her again she did not back away and harshly returned the kiss with a searing ferocity. Her young student, ever the fighter, responded in equal measure. Her glasses were sent clattering to her desk by the roughness with which their faces met, but they were forgotten before they even hit the surface. Glynda's heart soared as all her previous inhibitions slipped away. Their lips, tongues, and even teeth were clashing clumsily, but she had not a care in the world for she was finally free.

Yang's heart fluttered as well, but with relief. Her impulsive plan had worked. Against both logic and odds, she was making out with her professor, and within only minutes of being left alone with her. Had she exaggerated about the extent of her affections for the professor? Maybe, but she certainly hadn't been lying about one thing: Professor Goodwitch was _hot_. Who was she to complain about sharing some smooches with a beautiful woman? But if her original cause was to be fulfilled, it couldn't stop at simply that. There was more work – if it could really be called work – to be done.

She eked out an edge as their kissing became less sloppy, learning eachother's patterns. There was to be no mistake: this was her show. Letting Glynda run things now simply wouldn't make sense, and besides, it would be a cold day in hell before Yang Xiao Long was a passive lover. Presently, she was standing on her knees at the edge of the instructor's desk, one arm around Glynda's shoulders as the other ran through her tightly-bunned hair. Like this, she stood a full head higher than her professor which gave her all the leverage she needed, along with the best view. Whenever they broke apart for air, the skin left exposed by Glynda's blouse would catch her gaze and she would greedily feast her eyes on what was undoubtedly to come, but soon enough half-lidded emerald eyes looking expectantly up at her would reel her back in and their lips would meet with renewed vigor. This passionate cycle ran until Yang decided it was time to move past simple kissing and onto more… intimate endeavors.

The high-backed chair accompanying Glynda's side of the desk rocked momentarily as she fell into it, pushed by her young paramour, whose jacket was stripped and left behind on the desk before her boots hit the floor in pursuit of her fallen professor.

Glynda made to get up, eager to continue, but Yang pushed her down once again. Confident that Glynda was going to stay put now, Yang struck a pose, which almost looked ridiculous until she began to slowly sway on the spot, gyrating her hips to nonexistent music. She was close enough to brush against the professor as she spun and danced, her movements sensual and as many parts practiced as they were impromptu, but she knew exactly how to make them work. She wouldn't be Yang Xiao Long otherwise.

White knuckles strained on the arms of the chair as the teacher watched her student's intoxicating performance. With her obstructive jacket out of the way, Yang's lithe and sexy form was on full display; her bright yellow tank top snug in all the right places. Her hands ran freely over her professor and her lips would come so close to the other's, but never connect. She was lucky her spectator was being so passive, lest she force contact of her own.

Their eyes met often and burned with sheer want. For Yang, that wasn't good enough; Glynda had to _need_ her. She would not be satisfied until her professor had cracked and her body and mind begged for her. Could she make do without? Of course, but she was _not_ going to half-ass an opportunity like this.

She slowly spun one last time; eyes closed, hands above her head, and hips grinding deliciously against Glynda's inner thigh before reaching down and pulling off her tank top, tossing it lightly over her spectator's face.

Glynda barely caught a glimpse of Yang's newly exposed skin before her scent filled her nostrils and their lips met through the thin fabric of the discarded clothing. Her senses were being overloaded by all things _Yang_, and they hadn't even done anything overly sexual yet. The primal desire pooling low in her torso had been slowly rising since this had all begun, but had spiked from the dance and now it was absolutely throbbing. If Yang didn't do something soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

Fortunately, it didn't have to come to that. She managed to discard the clothing covering her face, but not before inhaling the smell of it enough to fill her head: slightly sweaty, but at the same time as fresh and sweet as a flower. The scent persisted, but the lips did not. Those moved lower, down to the only exposed patch of skin her clothing allowed.

The area was small, and soon glistening with a thin sheen of wetness from Yang's lips. She hooked a finger under the cloth, pulling down and exposing as much as she could without tearing the fabric, planting more kisses everywhere she could reach. Her considerable bosom pressed itself into her teacher's taught stomach, loosening the straps of her bra until it was nearly slipping off her shoulders. Glynda could distinctly feel two hardened tips pressing softly into her through the thin layers of fabric. Her mind hazily sparked a thought: if she could feel that, there were no pads involved on Yang's part. They really _were_ that big.

Yang's mind was somewhere else completely. She had hit an embarrassing roadblock that she was running through her mind furiously, but no solution was presenting itself. Never had she expected to encounter something like this:

She couldn't get Glynda's clothes off.

Nothing as simple as clothes should be so complicated, yet here she was with no idea of how to strip them off. What she had assumed to be buttons on the front of Glynda's half-corset were only decorative. There was no way she was going to _ask_ her to undress herself, so she only shrugged and continued downwards. She had never thought she would be so thankful about the open nature of skirts.

Little light permeated through Glynda's black skirt, but it was not as if Yang didn't know where things were. She held back a laugh at her professor's unflattering choice of underwear, but pulled it down to around her ankles all the same. A thin, glistening strand of wetness came with it. Apparently she had done well so far.

The wood of the chair was nearly splintering from Glynda's iron grip after Yang's face disappeared under her skirt. It was her only way to restrain the throbbing low in her abdomen. Now that it might finally be getting some attention, however….

An entirely expected musky scent filled Yang's nose. Done wasting time, she nudged her professor's knees further apart, giving her the space she needed to reach the smell's source.

Glynda nearly wailed when Yang finally kissed an entirely different pair of lips.

"Ms…. Ms. Xiao Long…!" she moaned, cracking a wide smile and releasing the chair completely.

She felt, rather than heard, Yang's chuckle against her.

"Still so proper, even now, professor?" Her voice was muffled, but the vibrations it sent through her were worth it.

"J-just don't stop," Glynda moaned, closing her eyes in what must've been bliss and still smiling wide as ever. It really had been too long.

Something that wasn't going to take too long, however, was her release. The lack of attention she had given herself combined with a girl who _absolutely_ knew what she was doing between her legs had already decided that. Her breathing was ragged, and throaty groans seemed to accompany her every breath. Just as she could feel herself approaching the height of pleasure, something unthinkable, but at the same time so obvious, happened.

Someone knocked at the door.

Shock immediately quelled everything Glynda was feeling only a second ago. Fortunately, as an accomplished huntress, she was a quick thinker. She scooted her chair up to her desk, hiding Yang from the view of anyone not standing directly over her shoulder. Yang's discarded clothes quickly joined her. Glynda then pulled a random bit of paperwork in front of her to appear busy and set her glasses back on her nose. In less than three seconds, she had everything looking like it normally was.

"Come in," Glynda said calmly.

The door rocketed open and something, _someone_ entered. To anyone who wasn't familiar with the many eccentricities of Beacon's professors, all they would see was a green blur. Semantics aside, he was already standing right in front of Glynda's desk.

"Hello Bartholomew," Glynda said in the same calm voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Yes, hello Glynda, just dropping off the latest reports from Ozpin," the green-haired man said, spouting words at the same pace he traveled.

"Oh. Thank yoouuuAH!" Glynda yelped, slamming her palm atop her desk.

"My word! Glynda my dear, is something the matter?" Oobleck asked, his eyebrows stitched in concern.

From her hidden spot under the desk, Yang had seen no reason why she should stop. If anything, the current situation was an _incentive_ to continue. So presently, her mouth was still latched onto Glynda and her efforts had practically doubled.

"N- Nothing at ah-AH, all!" Glynda whimpered, jutting her knee hard into Yang in an attempt to make her stop. It didn't work. "There's an a-ache in my nehh-eck that's been b-bothering me, nothing serious."

"I see. I'd recommend visiting the healing ward when you get a chance, my dear. Us hunters must always be prepared!"

"I w-will. Thank you again, BartholomeeEEew."

"Of course. Ta-ta!" And he was gone as quickly as he appeared.

As soon as the door had clicked shut again, Glynda pushed off her desk to give Yang a fiercer tongue lashing than she was receiving.

"Young lady!" she scolded, but further words were lost on her. In all honesty, Glynda's hazy mind simply couldn't think of anything more to say.

"Professor," Yang said innocently, emerging from under her skirt for the first time. Despite her voice, her smirk was devious. "You told me not to stop."

Glynda stared incredulously at her for a moment, but quickly composed herself. In fact, she copied Yang's grin.

"So why are you stopping?"

Yang's eyebrows rose in surprise, not believing what she just heard, but all the same she was back under Glynda's skirt in a second with renewed vigor. Groaning, Glynda lulled her head back and hooked her legs around Yang's shoulders, drawing her closer. If this wasn't heaven, she didn't know what was.

It didn't take much to bring back the arousal the shock had taken from her. Soon enough her hips were rolling into Yang's mouth as she convulsed in her chair, losing her mind to ecstatic pleasure. She came screaming. The sound echoed off the walls, but if anyone was just outside they wouldn't have heard a peep.

Yang loyally lapped up all she could as her professor bucked into her, and only withdrew from under her skirt when she was satisfied her tongue hadn't missed a thing. Glynda's spasms eventually subsided and she slouched in her chair, panting heavily. They shared a kiss, and Glynda could taste what was undoubtedly her own musk. They fell into silence before long, both contemplating what had just transpired. Yang, with a lack of better things to do, reclined back on the desk and watched her professor stare blankly at the ceiling.

"So…" Yang said finally, after many minutes of letting her professor-now-paramour recover. She was cut off by that very person pushing past her and reaching for something on the desk. The scratching of a pen on paper soon met her ears.

"Here," Glynda said a short while later, her breathing still slightly labored. "Take this and don't open in until you're out of this room." She handed Yang a small folded piece of paper and gestured to the door without another word. Yang saw her blush, and guessed it was for a very different reason than what they had just finished doing.

Yet she obeyed, getting dressed before walking slowly towards the door. Unable to contain her rebellious nature, she opened the note before she got there. In very fancy handwriting, it read:

_Now that we've had lunch, how about dinner? 7:00._

Under that was an address that Yang recognized as being on the part of campus where the professors lived.

She turned and saw Goodwitch staring at her with a tiny, proud grin. Her hair was frazzled, lipstick was slightly smeared over her mouth, and her clothes were still ruffled where Yang had tried to get them off, giving her the perfect 'just fucked' look. Knowing that was a sight she'd want to see again, Yang nodded, winked, and then was out the door.

* * *

_How did I go from being in the shit to sexing up my professor, and now getting invited to her place? Yang, you are too damn good at this, girl!_

It was six fifty-five. A very specific blonde student of Beacon academy was leisurely strolling along the campus grounds, backpack in hand to avoid suspicion. She had figured it would make a good cover if anyone asked what she was doing on Professor Lane. Getting after-hours help from professors wasn't entirely unheard of, after all, but she had never heard of anyone actually going to a professor's own home. She guessed that her case of "after-hours help" deviated _slightly_ from the norm, however.

Well, sucks to be everyone else then. They were the ones stuck doing homework while she was having fun. Not that she was dumb – of course – she was simply using the tools and opportunities that she had been given. Hell, she should be given an award for her intuition and resourcefulness. Bronze her name and put it on a plaque! Yang Xiao Long, wunderkind of the modern age!

While her mind playfully wandered, she had presently arrived at the doorstep of the address written on the piece of paper stuffed in her pocket. She pressed a nearby button, and heard the muffled sound of a doorbell come from beyond the door. A shadowy figure appeared on the other side of the small opaque window set in the middle of the door a short few moments later, yet they did not immediately grant entrance. The figure seemed to be deliberating on whether or not it should at all. Perhaps it was considering feigning absence, despite obviously being present.

When the wait was just about to become awkward, the door opened and light spilled out onto the doorstep. Glynda stood there, dressed as she normally was, including her stoic expression. Yang was almost disappointed that she hadn't spruced up for the occasion.

In the end, it mattered little.

"Hey sexy," Yang purred. She went in for a kiss, but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder before she even came close.

"Not out in the open!" Glynda hissed, staring up and down the street. Not seeing any immediate threat of onlookers, she quickly ushered the blonde inside and snapped the door shut behind her.

"Ooh, we're making this a forbidden love kind of deal? Hot," Yang said, half-jokingly. In reality she knew, as did her professor, that they probably shouldn't be doing this at all. Coincidentally, they also shared the trait of not feeling an overwhelming desire to care at present. Who had to know, anyway? It could just be their little secret.

"Wait a minute," Yang said, sniffing the air. "Do I smell food? You actually made dinner? I thought…." She trailed off, looking at her professor questioningly.

Glynda raised an eyebrow at her, the hint of a smile playing across her severe lips. "Oh? Just what were you thinking I meant by 'dinner?'"

Lilac eyes narrowed as Yang's head tilted slightly to the side. A large grin slowly spread across her face. "Professor, are you being _coy_? I didn't think you had it in you!"

Glynda sighed. "Is it considered odd to invite a special guest over for dinner now? What is this generation coming to?"

Yang couldn't tell if her exasperation was faked or not, but something else in that sentence had drawn her attention.

"So I'm your 'special guest' huh?" she murmured, moving a step closer. "That sure is an interesting thing to call someone you don't have _special_ things planned for."

Glynda eyed her for a moment, and unable to resist Yang's charm, her composure broke. "Oh, very well, I won't play a game I am clearly outmatched at. Yes, I thought I could use a tad more… _persuasion_. That _is_ what you were trying to do, yes? Persuade me not to fail you?" she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, er, I wouldn't say it's that simple," Yang muttered, rubbing the back of her neck and laughing nervously.

"I'm sure. Come along then, dinner is nearly ready."

Yang left her backpack and boots by the door before following Glynda further into the house. She looked around curiously as she went, wondering what kind of accommodations being a professor at Beacon earned you.

It didn't take long to learn that the academy was generous. It was a nice house; large enough to not feel cramped but small enough to not have superfluous amounts of space. The front door entered into a modestly decorated living room that left an air of meticulous organization. A glance into an open door she passed revealed a moderately sized master bedroom and what looked like an accompanying bathroom behind another door. Moving past that, down the hallway was a combined kitchen and dining room.

Overall, very cozy.

Since Glynda was busying herself over the stove, Yang offered herself a seat at the nearby table. It was square and small enough that comfortably seating four people would be a challenge, but two would be just fine. Yang got the feeling that Glynda didn't have guests over often enough to justify anything larger.

"So what's cookin', good lookin'?" Yang chirped.

"Spaghetti," Glynda replied curtly, "and you don't have to try and flatter me, you know."

Yang chose to ignore that last part. "I like spaghetti."

"Good. I make it myself, along with the sauce, but it's been a while since I've been able to share it with anyone."

"How long?" Yang said absently. She realized how that could've sounded a second too late. As she feared, Glynda froze up for a moment before relaxing herself.

"…A long time." Glynda said after the uncomfortable pause, her voice softer than normal. Yang took the cue and didn't say anything more.

Luckily the silence only had to last for about a minute. By then Glynda had prepared everything and set down plates for herself and Yang at the table, taking the seat opposite the blonde. Yang thanked her politely before digging in.

"Wine?" Glynda said shortly, holding an unopened bottle of it. Yang stared at her in utter disbelief.

"I mean, if you're offering… but aren't you kind of… not supposed to do that?"

"Oh please," Glynda scoffed. "Believe it or not I was your age once, attending this academy. I know all about students needing to unwind. And it's not as if this entire situation is something we should be doing, anyway."

Yang's expression turned slightly mischievous and she held out her glass. "You just keep surprising me more and more, professor. I like it." Glynda shrugged blandly as she filled both of their glasses with generous amounts of the beige liquid.

They spent the rest of the meal in relative silence. The wine quickly disappeared as did the bottle following it and only then did any real conversation begin. The popular gossip that currently roamed the halls of Beacon was of particular interest to both of them, especially with a little alcohol running through their bodies.

"…I'm just saying," Yang said, grinning stupidly, "no one's actually proved that Port's moustache _doesn't_ have a mind of its own!"

Glynda hit her hand on the table, smiling despite her mouth being half full of spaghetti. She quickly chewed and swallowed before saying, "Me and about three other professors tried to get him to shave that stupid thing off a few years back! He threatened us with his blunderaxe just at the suggestion! So of course, we convinced Oobleck to shave it while he was sleeping.

"We waited until about two in the morning that night and snuck over to Port's house. The others and I hung back while Oobleck snuck up to his door – as much as that man can sneak without breaking a land speed record – but as soon as he got the key in the lock, a massive blast went off and he went flying backwards! So we take off likes bats outta hell, Oobleck of course was probably on the other side of campus already. When we were running, I looked over my shoulder and there was Port on his doorstep, running his fingers through that damned moustache and yelling after us. 'Ruffians, scoundrels, you cannot sneak up on me!' Crazy bastard had shot through his own door!"

Yang and Glynda both collapsed onto the table roaring with laughter.

"Oobleck never forgave us for that one," Glynda choked out through tears a full minute later. "He still tries to pull the 'I got shot at for you' card whenever we ask him for a favor."

Yang chuckled heartily, but soon silence fell again. Glynda filled it by pouring out the last of the second bottle of wine evenly among them. Yang was certainly feeling buzzed at this point but not quite drunk, and she wasn't going to start turning it away now. Glynda was in a similar state.

"So," the shorter-haired blonde said, sipping her refilled glass, "you do this kind of thing often?"

Yang looked at her confusedly. "Uh, what kind of thing?"

"You know, 'hooking up.' Sorry to ask, I just figured you as the type."

"I've dabbled," Yang said nonchalantly with a wave of her hand. "But I've never been with someone older. Not that you're old!"

Glynda rolled her eyes in mock hurt.

"What about you? I wouldn't believe a woman as gorgeous as you doesn't have her share of fun."

There was a pause as Glynda gave her a curious stare, running her finger along the rim of her glass. She didn't make it a habit of speaking about her past difficulties with relationships, but alcohol was hard to argue against.

"No, I don't usually invite my students to my home, but that's not what you were asking about, was it? It's been a while since I… well, since anything, really. I can tell you now that all that gossip about the headmaster and I is untrue. As you might have noticed, I don't exactly play for his team.

"A long time ago, I had a partner. She was the only woman to ever accept me for what – who – I am."

Yang looked somberly at her mellowed professor. "What happened?"

Glynda shrugged. "Life, I suppose. This was all years ago, back when I was your age, perhaps a few years older. We just… grew up, and she went her way… and I went mine. It's really a rather long story."

As her professor reminisced inside her own head, Yang stayed politely quiet until she felt the whisperings of the alcohol urging her mind somewhere else.

"Wow," she said softly, her expression blank. "You really _are_ old!"

Glynda regarded the suddenly snarky blonde and remembered why she was here. She downed the last of her wine before saying, "Ms. Xiao Long, one of the many things you will learn at this school is that with age comes experience."

Yang finished off her wine as well. "Wanna show me?" she murmured, leaning over the table and staring at her professor hungrily.

In lieu of a response, Glynda stood up and slowly sashayed past Yang. Her hand traced across her shoulder as she passed, heading for the bedroom. Yang pivoted in her seat just in time to see a single finger beckon to her before disappearing around the corner.

Yang didn't linger. She hurried to the bedroom, where Glynda was already leaning on the doorway across the room.

"Undress and wait for me," Glynda said, backing into the bathroom and making to close the door.

"Undress myself? Where's the fun in that?"

"Do not forget that I am your teacher, young lady. Do as I say, or risk the consequences."

The door to the bathroom snapped shut.

Part of Yang's alcohol-riddled mind _really_ wanted to see what those consequences were. However, after a couple minutes wait without Glynda returning, she began to strip off her clothing for a lack of things to do. In short time she was fully naked and posed on the bed. The hand that wasn't propping her head up absently roamed her body, eventually travelling low and softly tending to her growing arousal.

After much too long a wait, the door creaked open and out slipped Professor Goodwitch. A very _nude_ Professor Goodwitch with only one discrepancy: the purple member strapped to her waist.

Yang's lilac eyes immediately snapped to the length and they became wide, along with her smirk.

"_Niiice_, professor," she purred.

"Don't you think we're a little past titles?" Glynda sighed as she strode towards her soon-to-be lover.

"Not in bed, we aren't."

Glynda couldn't help but agree as she crawled onto the bed and assumed her position over the younger blonde.

Their lips met fiercely, tongues stroking together just like they had previously in the day. Naturally, Yang fought for dominance, but this time Glynda put up a fight. The strapon dangling between her legs brushed against Yang all the while, steadily growing both of their arousals.

Not forgetting how they had so tantalizingly taunted her before, Glynda was quick to move her lips down to Yang's breasts. She kissed, sucked, bit, and played with them in every way she had conceived while waiting for Yang's arrival on her doorstep. The twin nubs atop them, already partially swollen from Yang's own warm-up, were quick to stand at full attention. Yang moaned softly at all of the contact, her pitch spiking whenever Glynda would bite down particularly hard, which was often.

She knew her breasts caught a lot of attention by their size alone to nearly everyone she met, and Yang was happy to offer them to her lovers. Those few (perhaps her implications had been exaggerated when Glynda had asked her how many she had) always had some primal lust that drew them to her 'twins,' she had learned. Indulging them was simply part of the enjoyment.

But Glynda soon moved lower still, leaving a wet trail down to her navel and then beyond.

"Hey professor," Yang said, looking down at the woman whose head was set between her thighs, "don't feel bad if you can't make me cum. It _has_ been a while for you, after all."

It was a taunt.

Glynda's eye twitched and she snarled into the younger blonde's clit. Yang gave her a sickly sweet smile.

Her tongue lashed out and the unexpected burst of pleasure had Yang quickly stifling a gasp.

"There are some things you don't forget how to do, _Ms. Xiao Long_," Glynda drawled assertively.

"W-We'll see about that." Yang's tone was markedly less confident. This, she decided, was a challenge she was willing to lose.

They did more than see. Glynda's mouth and tongue worked viciously against Yang, and mere seconds had passed before Yang was stringing small gasps and moans together.

"J-Jesus professor," Yang panted, "that woman you told me about must've been fucking _crazy_ to leave you."

Glynda took that for what is was: a compliment. She chuckled lightly and sat up. Yang whined and tried to coerce her back down with her legs, but knowing what was coming she didn't try _too_ hard.

The professor reached over to a bedside table and opened a cabinet. After a second of rummaging, she pulled out a plastic bottle and made to squirt whatever it was onto her hand. Yang caught a quick glimpse of the label and made a sudden noise to distract the professor.

"You're wasting your time with that, babe. Trust me."

Glynda's expression went from surprise at being stopped, to a lustful smirk. She tossed the bottle of lube aside, not caring where it landed.

"So wet already, Ms. Xiao Long? We've barely even started."

Yang grinned sheepishly, but eagerly rolled her hips into Glynda all the same.

"Not my fault they gave me a dead sexy lesbian professor, _professor_."

"But it is your fault for coming on to me." Glynda knelt before Yang, rubbing the tip of her toy against her student's slick folds. "How many times did you dream about me _fucking_ you in my class, hmm?" She accentuated her statement by pushing the toy in, just slightly.

"Nnn… too many, lost count," Yang groaned.

Glynda pulled the toy out and softly thrust back in. "Is that so? Perhaps if you spent all the time you use touching yourself over me for studying, we wouldn't have to be doing this."

"Then… then joke's on you, I'm never studying ever again!"

Glynda stared down at her, hard, but playfully. "Then you are a bad student, and must be _punished_!" She thrust in fully on the last word, and Yang cried out in delight. Her legs sprang into the air and Glynda caught them, holding them above her own shoulders as she began fucking Yang in earnest. Yang had not been lying when she said lube was a waste of time, after only a few thrusts the purple strapon was already slick with her juices.

Grunts and moans filled the room as Glynda rolled her hips into Yang and back out, again and again. Yang's breasts bounced with every thrust as she pushed herself into the strapon in sync with her professor. She was soon moaning out _professor_ or simply a strangled cry every few seconds, but never addressed the woman by name directly. Glynda, similarly, would occasionally taunt her with things such as _you like that, Ms. Xiao Long?_ as she pushed the ribbed member in again.

The fierceness of her thrusts progressed until she was bent over Yang, propping herself up with her hands next to the younger blonde's head. Yang was scrunched up against the headboard, her knees right at her own ears and she was helpless, in the best way possible, to fight against her professor. The position gave Glynda the advantage of gravity as she pushed her artificial member deeper into her student until it was rubbing against her most sensitive spots, causing even more moans and wails from the blonde.

Just as Yang had known what she was doing back in the classroom, Glynda was working the strapon perfectly into her. Through half-lidded eyes Yang watched her professor's face – mere inches from her own – as she gyrated her hips into Yang faster and faster, her emerald eyes muddled with concentration and alcohol. To severely understate it, Yang loved everything about this and she could feel herself growing tense.

"P-professor, you're gonna… make me… make…"

Glynda thrust in as hard and as far as she could, sparing a hand to rub Yang's clit.

Now it was Yang's turn to scream.

She convulsed as her body squeezed on the toy, and Glynda didn't stop, pushing into her through the orgasm until she was reduced to a shuddering mess. Only then did she pull out and let Yang relax.

Many snarky comments came to Glynda's mind about her own ability, but she said none of them. All she did was roll over and lay propped up next to Yang and wait for her to recover.

It was sooner than she expected.

"Fffffuck yeah," Yang murmured. She turned to face her professor. "This is gonna be a thing between us now. I mean, goddamn, that was _good_."

Glynda quizzically raised an eyebrow at her. "I think I'd like that. But it's getting a little late, and don't you have that homework I assigned due tomorrow morning?"

Yang looked at her blankly. "But…"

"Oh please, you didn't honestly think I was ever going to do anything about your grades, did you? Go do your homework, young lady."

Yang's jaw nearly hit the floor. Glynda sighed.

"You brought your backpack, just do it here. I'll be out later to offer my assistance. If you hurry, maybe I'll still be _naked_."

Yang was out of bed in a flash.


End file.
